Since he'd agreed to join the Conclave Ilaan found himself thinking about the future quite a bit. And with his translation almost done, his best tool was—well, his tool was, drinking too much and arguing with his girlfriend, as Rhuun so often was these days.
The two stood half in, half out of the courtyard. Rhuun liked to be near a shadowed corner and the courtyard was only dimly lit with shallow dishes of softly glowing rocks. Rhuun had a vague half smile and was looking fixedly at the flowers above Aelle's shoulder, hanging on to a glass of sarave for dear life. She, for her part, was a beautiful mask with a pretty, dimpled smile. Her hair was coiled and dressed with black and white beads, a daring imitation of the Queen's style which caused more than one party goer to look twice. Their heads were as close together as possible considering how much taller he was. He was definitely at the advantage; if he didn't want to listen all he had to do was straighten up. At the moment they were looking in opposite directions and nearly nose to nose. This was a bad fight. Ilaan waved at them and headed the other way. Neither took any notice.
As usual, Rhuun was the object of many furtive glances and whispered remarks.
Will he ever wed that poor girl? There's only one reason Yuenne even allows that great beast near her. I hear that 'one reason' will actually be here tonight... no love lost between her and Yuenne, no matter how they behave in public. But just look at the two of them over there! Honestly, it hurts the eye. We thought it was funny at first—but little Aelle seems quite serious. Well, they're a serious family, even Ilaan, for all his joking—Ah, Ilaan. What a lovely event. And how lucky we are to share you with the Mages!
In another corner, near the tinkling water fountain, he listened to a group of young ladies he knew from school. He thought they were mostly Aelle's friends.
I saw her last night; she seemed upset so we got a bottle of sarave. And she told me everything. No, she did! Do you want to know? Then stop your mouth, they'll hear us! She says he can't raise a flame at all! Not a spark! Nothing! Shhh! Then she said 'but he makes up for it.' I don't know what that means, but look at him! His best friend calls him the Beast! And what do you suppose our Ilaan means by that? Proportional? Rushta, the mouth on you, Daala, you vulgar thing!
Ilaan didn't blame Rhuun for wanting to disappear sometimes. He knew how difficult this was for his friend, and if he turned to the bottle to get through events like this, well, Ilaan was neither his judge nor his father.
His own father was—as usual—regaling a group of rapt admirers with stories from the Vastness.
"And the wind, it’s so loud out there we had to stuff our ears with pebbles wrapped in silk just so we could sleep!"
"It sounds so awful, why do you keep going?" asked a pretty young courtier—one of the Queen's new girls. She gazed up at Yuenne through thick dark lashes, her scarlet eyes shining. Yuenne looked to his wife, who merely smiled and shrugged.
"Tell them, Yu," she said. "I think he must have a collection of daeeva mistresses hidden in the rocks out there."
Yuenne moved to her side and touched her fingertips with his own. "You are my only Princess, Siia," he said, "but there's something out there. Every time I go, I can feel it. I will find it, too. This next trip, I will find it. It calls me...."
Ilaan turned away. "Ugh, he's so dramatic!" he whispered to Niico.
"Is that where you get it from?" Niico replied.
The chatter suddenly came to a halt.
The Queen simply appeared at his side. Her black silk tunic, slashed nearly to the waist and piped in cream, was dramatically set off by the white leggings she wore under it, to honor his own family's place at the foundation of her court. Her hair was dressed as usual. She would certainly notice Aelle had beaten her to that particular punch.
There was a low murmur and a general drawing back as she smiled around the room. She didn't believe she needed an introduction to the home of one of her oldest advisers, although Yuenne had very much tried to convince Ilaan they needed what he referred to as 'sufficient warning.' His father was just so peculiar sometimes. Too much time out in the sand.
"Lovely evening," she said warmly. She made a show of laying her hand on his shoulder. "I am very proud of you, Ilaan. Just think of what we'll do next."
'The boy thinks he's being clever'... don't think about that now....
Yuenne handed her a crystal cup of water, which she also made a show of admiring.
"It's a fine thing," said the Councilor, "our families working side by side. And always a pleasure to receive you at my home, Your Grace."
She had a smile for Yuenne as well. "It waters my heart that our children have grown up so close and so well."
She obviously hasn't seen Rhuun lately, Ilaan thought. I should let him know she's arrived. He looked back to the courtyard, but only saw Aelle. She was, if anything, looking happier than ever, chatting with some boy swathed in grey—Hollen? A friend of Niico's, he thought. They were flanked by the gossips he'd overheard earlier. In her element. He nodded at her and she smiled brightly back at him. He was glad she'd come, and resolved to work on fixing their bent if not broken relationship. I hope you get your time, sister, I hope Rhuun does as well.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea, though, to keep an ear on what she and her friends were talking about. He passed Niico and gave him a sign to go and talk with her. Niico gave a tiny nod, after making sure Rhuun was not to be found, and made his way towards the courtyard, trailing admirers.
What a funny group we make, he thought. Why can't we all just be friends? He had decided to tell the Queen about the little misunderstanding with the scrap of paper, a good start on showing her that even if he was now to be called Mage, he still was her trusted confidant.
"May we have a word, Your Grace," asked Ilaan. He steered her, taking care not to touch her, to a quiet corner. The light from the flowers above them gave her a charming glow.
"Is this to do with your father?" she asked. "I can ask him to retire his hiking boots if you're worried about him."
"He is not as young as he was, that is true, Madam, but I think he'd miss the empty sand if we asked him not to go. No, this is something else. An odd thing happened today. With the Zaalmage. No, it was with all the Mages, they all seemed a bit odd. Of course, it’s difficult to tell...."
"Odd how? In general or specifically?" She looked less charming and more worried. There was a vertical line between her arched brows he'd never noticed before.
"Well, you know I had my Naa Kansima. It was the last step. Something strange happened."
"I assumed it went well, otherwise this would be a funny sort of party!" She was still hanging on to her smile.
"Oh, no, it was fine. I passed, I guess you’d call it. They said I'll start training with them very soon. No, it was after that. It’s hard to explain." He began twisting and pulling the cuff of his white tunic.
"Try," she said.
"Well, you get this bag, and you put some important thing in it—" he began.
"I know what Naa Kansima is. Was it something you saw?" She looked concerned. She should, he thought.
"No, that part was—unpleasant but, no, it wasn't that. The book you gave me. You know. The book."
"What about it?" she asked, looking a bit pale. She began scanning the room. Who is she looking for?
"Somehow, a scrap of paper—just a corner, really. It got in the bag. I didn't bring it down there on purpose, of course. But they saw it, and they examined it pretty closely. And they said the strangest thing! They said it was in a human's hand this very day. Isn't that odd? I told them that wasn't possible, and that seemed to settle them."
"Did you," she cleared her throat. "Did you tell them who owns that book? Whose hand it was in?"
"Well, of course, there's no harm in telling them it's Rhuun's book, I mean, obviously he's not...."
Her hand shot out and gripped his wrist.
"What have you done?" He tried to withdraw his hand, but she held him tightly. He could feel the leng
th of her nails driving into his skin.
"What? Nothing! They must have known it belonged to the human who gave it to you, because Rhuun isn't..." Of course he is. You idiot, of course he is. He saw the man on the cover of the book, a dark haired giant with no power, a great beast who felt pain. A human. I am a fool.
It was his turn to settle his face into a blank mask. It was that or scream.
"What have I done?" he whispered. "I mean, what will they do?"'
She dropped his hand. "How close are you to having that charm ready?"
"It is just a matter of a few words."
"Use it. Send him away. Do it now." She looked towards the entranceway. "I imagine the Mages are on their way. The only thing that would ever get them up those stairs is human blood, and now they know where to get some."
A million questions rose to Ilaan's lips, but she held up her hand. "We will talk later, you and I. Oh, we'll have a very long talk. Now go get my son through the Door and save his life—if you value your own. I'll deal with the Mages." He stood frozen in front of her for a moment. "Ilaan!"
"I will go," he stammered.
But he had to see Aelle first.
***
"Rhuun left, of course," she said. "More than five people showed up and that was just too much for him." Her smile was brilliant. "I imagine he went back to his dark little cave to sleep it off. You're not leaving, are you? Rushta, you're as bad as he is! You can't leave your own party! Father will string you up!"
Ilaan struggled to compose his expression. He took a moment to send a Stand Ready signal to Niico. "I'm really, really sorry, Aelle."
"Light and Wind, Ilaan, whatever is wrong with you?"
"I have to go. I'm sorry." He shimmered away, leaving her, for once, open mouthed and staring. Niico was already making his way towards the entrance, where some sort of commotion had started.
Chapter 31
Eriis City
20 years after the War of the Door, Eriisai calendar
100 years later, Mistran calendar
Royal household
Once in his room, Rhuun stretched out with his back against the bed and his feet up against the far wall. That held him nicely in place. He'd slept on the floor in more or less this position before, as his bed, reassembled to accommodate his height, was fine in theory but never felt quite right.
He decided the floor was a safer bet than the bed, or, Light and Wind forbid, a chair. That was asking for trouble. He didn't exactly completely remember walking home from Ilaan's party, but he'd made the short stroll (no shimmering for him) so often he could have done it with his eyes closed.
He'd thought about taking his boots off but as Ilaan had once pointed out, they were very, very far away. He did manage to close the heavy curtains and shut the door, so, night over. Another party done and finished. He closed his eyes, which turned out to be a bad idea—the room moved rapidly and unpleasantly. Maybe lying on the floor would be wiser? But that was pretty far away as well. He pulled the flask of sarave he'd lifted from Ilaan's out of his coat and upended it. Empty. An earlier version of himself had obviously finished it off. But when? He knew there was another bottle stashed in a cabinet, unfortunately out of arm's reach, and resolved to get it. But before he could remind his legs how to get him up off the floor, Ilaan shimmered into the room. There he was. His friend Ilaan was sitting on the floor right next to him. That was nice.
" 'lo. Why are you here?" He could see Ilaan better, as it turned out, through just one eye. "Party over?"
"I have to talk to you. It's really important." Ilaan looked uncharacteristically flustered.
"She wants. Do you know what she wants?"
"I don't have—" Ilaan was almost frantic, but Rhuun continued. He had things he wanted to say.
"She wants me to," he spoke slowly and carefully, "'Request More Official Duties.' 'Be more active in the life of the Court.' 'Work with Mother on a more formal level.' Why don't you understand?" His imitation of Aelle’s clipped vowels and dropped inflection would have been funny in any other circumstance. "We'll be so good at Court together, why aren't you happy Rhuuuuuunnn?"
Rhuun tried to close his eyes. He opened them again immediately. "Rather sand swim through the Vastness." He looked at Ilaan. "Oh, hi Ilaan. When'd you get here? 'fraid I had a fight with Yell." He sighed. "She's so pretty. Don't even mind that she has to stand on a chair—"
"Okay, that's enough." Ilaan sighed and rubbed his hands together. "I'm sorry about this. It'll probably hurt." He grabbed Rhuun by the jaw and kissed him hard on the mouth. After a moment he released his head and went to the window. Opening the curtains, he blew a dirty black lungful of air out into the darkness.
Ilaan closed the curtains and turned back to his friend. Rhuun now sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
"Well, that was terrible." Rhuun said. "Deeply uncomfortable, followed by painful, and now I'm embarrassed." He shook his now-clear head. "Usually it takes half the morning to wake up feeling this bad."
"I have to talk to you and that seemed like the quickest way."
Rhuun looked up. His eyes were entirely red now, not just the iris. That would fade quickly, fortunately. "So am I a good kisser?" he asked.
"Please, listen. This is really important. We don't have much time." Ilaan's serious tone got his attention. "There's trouble. With the Mages. And we need to try the spell. You need to try and go through the Door."
"What, right now? Ilaan, what's going on?"
"I don't think I can tell you—"
"So you know but you won't tell me? Seriously? Then go through yourself. The door is right there." He pointed towards his own door. "Goodnight."
"Rhuun, I'm sorry, but this is really complicated—but I can't leave, you have to try the spell—now."
"No," Rhuun folded his long legs under him and leaned against the wall. "No, I don't. You're as bad as they are—you and Aelle and my mother, all full of plans. It’s my own fault, I suppose. I've been letting the wind push me through my whole life. Good, bad, whatever, I'll just go along with it, as long as I don't get, y'know, set on fire more than twice a day. And I have plenty of this." He tossed the empty bottle across the room, where it hit the wall, shattered, and turned back to a pile of sand. "I've been a tool, and a toy, and sand knows what else. And I'm tired of it, I'm tired of myself. So tell me why I should try the spell, or go home." He rubbed the back of his head. "And no more kissing until you improve your technique."
"Okay." Ilaan thought for a moment. "Okay. Are you ready? It's like this. Look at me. You're human. Or maybe half a human, that's more likely, but unclear. I think your mother is really your mother but we haven't had that conversation. And the Mages know you have human blood, so they are on their way right now to take it. I don't think it involves your cooperation."
Rhuun was silent and still for a second. Then he burst out laughing.
"That is beautiful. Seriously, lots of strong storytelling elements. Did you run this tale past my mother?"
"Your mother's the one who says you have to go. Now." Ilaan had the paper in his hands and was turning it over and over. It was covered not only with dark bloodstains and ancient inscriptions, but now had a fresh layer of writing—still in the old tongue, but spelled out so anyone could read the words, even if they didn't know what it meant.
Rhuun rubbed the back of his head again. "What if I don't believe you?"
"Then the Mages will probably break in here and take you down to the Raasth."
"Even if this nonsense was true, Mother wouldn't let them actually harm me," he frowned. "Would she?"
"She wrote the law. She implicates herself no matter what happens. The law she wrote gives the Mages whatever they need. And they need you. I think they've suspected for a long time, they needed proof... of your blood—the human part of it. The humans sealed the Door with blood, and yours will blow it right off its hinges. I've seen where they'll do it; it’s a big flat table. It has drains in it." Thinking on it,
Ilaan felt sick. It’d had stains on it. Grooves that fingernails would leave and places to attach restraints. He'd leaned on it, and they hadn't mentioned it. The Mages had acted like it was just another piece of furniture. Oh this, it’s just where we perform our sacrifices. And he had been ready—eager to join them. He'd traded Rhuun's life for it.
Rhuun slowly rose to his feet. "If this is a joke, it’s not a funny one."
"I am begging you, read the spell. I—I'm not sure it'll work, there are some words missing. It might only get you as far as the Veil. But you won't be here, and you won't be dead."
"I assume Aelle doesn't know about this." Ilaan was silent. "She will kill you. Tell her I said not to, and please extend my apologies." He looked at the flimsy sheet of paper, which Ilaan had put in his hand. "Do I get to come home?"
"I don't know. No, I do know. I will figure this out. I won't leave you there, I swear it. And if you find Malloy, the writer, maybe he can help you. If we're lucky, this may even take you to him. Get him to help you. After all, he wrote this, he can certainly write another one."
"I..." There was the sound of many running feet from the far end of the corridor. "So. What now, Ilaan? Fight?"
Ilaan nodded at the paper. "Fly. I won't leave you there," Ilaan said brokenly. "I'll bring you home."
"Take care of my mother," said Rhuun. "Take care of Aelle. Lock the door. And let's get started."
Rhuun read the spell slowly, carefully sounding out the translated words. As he read, the page burned itself above his fingers, line by line. There'd be no using it again.
He got to the end. Nothing happened. He'd been afraid, then excited, and he still didn't know what to make of it—human? Half-human? Blood and the Door and the Mages... it was too much to comprehend.
It doesn't matter, you're going, you're really going. You'll see horses, and find the girl....
There was pounding on the door now, and many voices. Somewhere outside Rhuun thought he heard his mother's voice. She sounded very angry. He was tired. He wished he'd never found the book. He wasn't human, that was absurd. He rubbed his aching eyes and looked up, saying, "I'm sorry, Ilaan. It looks like we have to let them in."
The Sand Prince Page 17
